I’ve never been any good at math, but I know that I’m only a fraction of myself since you left the first time. I hate that you’ve reduced me to nothing but blank stares and bloodshot eyes, but I still wish you were here to make me whole again.
I wish you were here to be mine again.
I’ve never been any good at anything at all, but don’t tell me I wasn’t good at being yours. I was so in love with you that I wanted to write it on every surface of your skin and every nerve ending. I wanted you to feel my love in your bloodstream even after you left.
I hope my lips still haunt you when you don’t fall asleep fast enough. I hope you look for me in every persons face you see on the sidewalk and I hope you look for my blue eyes every time you see her murky brown ones.
I hope you realize you made a mistake when you kiss her neck and suddenly wish you weren’t tasting her skin, but mine instead.
I hope it tears you apart and I hope you call me on the phone at 3 am because you need to tell me you’re sorry, but god, please can we just try again.
I hope I don’t pick up.